


The Devil's Advocate

by DeepestEnemyEagle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: #deepestenemyeagle, #thedevil'sadvocate, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 10:09:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepestEnemyEagle/pseuds/DeepestEnemyEagle
Summary: Harry Potter is Dead. It seems as if Lord Voldemort made sure of his immorality in more than one ways.And Hermione has a plan, which goes into the gutter because of her fucked up feelings. Indeed, road to hell is paved with good intentions.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> OOOOkkkaaayy!! The first two to three chapters would be fairly small. *weeps* exams are going on, fuck!  
> PROLOGUE;

Down in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, behind the black steel bars, sat the petite figure of a girl, her bushy hair covering seemingly crying form. But she was not crying. She wasn’t doing anything. She never thought she could do anything ever again. Harry died in the battle of Hogwarts. He left her and Ron all alone! And now Ronald too. She tried to cry, but no tears came.

She didn’t know what was happening. Her best friend was dead, and she wasn’t even crying? What would she do now? Hermione had no Idea. After the death of Harry, Voldemort turned back into his 17-year old self. That’s all she knew. After that Ron and herself were imprisoned, and they didn’t have a clue about the world outside.

Then Bellatrix came. And killed him. Killed Ron. She could’ve saved him. But she did not. She let him die. He screamed for help, but she did not help him. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t crying. Maybe it was her fault that Ron was dead. Maybe it was guilt. But why didn’t she save him? Why did he have to die? Why? She knew the answer, yet she wouldn’t speak it out to herself. She had given up. She had accepted that Lord Voldemort won. She had accepted that she lost. And that she was helpless.

Miles away, Tom Riddle looked up at Lucius Malfoy, his eyes blood red. “So, the Granger girl, you say?” Riddle said, frowning. “Yes, my Lord, she is one of the cleverest people of this age, I already told you about her achievements and grades. And she is a Mudblood, even if she dies, there would be no significant loss,” Lucius uttered. “I see. Go get her. We’ll see If she’s worthy of the job,”  
——  
Hermione was lost in her own world of sorrows when she heard footsteps echoing off the staircase at the front of the small dingy cell. “Get up! You filthy Mudblood, get up!"Theodore Nott yelled. Hermione knew that if she made no move, she would probably be tortured, so after Nott opened the chains on her arms that pinned her to the walls behind, she slowly stood up on her legs. It felt like years since she’d stood up like that. It felt so good to be without those chains. She rubbed her bruised arms, the marks of the chains still very much visible.

Nott led her out of the cell into the main room of the Manor. The fresh air that hit her cheeks was lovely compared to the humid earthy air of the cell. It made her feel feather-light. Nott then led her out into the garden grounds, in the chilling November air. Hermione shivered but was glad to be out in the sun once again. She wondered where he was taking her. Were they going to execute her? the brightest witch of her age? Did they even have any idea what she was capable of?

Little Did Hermione Know, Voldemort Very Well Knew What She Was Capable Of.


	2. Act One: We're not on first name basis

Snow. Mountains.The starry night sky. Wherever Hermione turned her head, that’s all she saw. Snow-capped trees and a frozen lake. She was sure they were moving in circles, or rather Theodore Nott was dragging her in circles. She had been with him since the last two hours.

“If you would just let me know, maybe I could help you with whatever treasure you’re trying to find!” Hermione yelled as the last bit of self-control evaporated from her veins. 

“Shut up! Mudblood,” Nott yelled. But as stubborn as Hermione was, she spoke back to him,“As if you are doing anything useful! Don’t you see! We’re just where we started—”

Hermione’s sentence was cut short as a huge, very old house appeared out of thin air. It stood there before her, a manor almost as old as the Malfoy Manor, judging by the creatues carved from stone. It looked beautiful, the windows were charmed, so that no-one could see inside, so they reflected the starry sky above. There was a huge Bronze gate, guarding the gardens, where the elegant black roses were planted, and even in the snowy night, they looked as if spring came early.

There was a fountain there, now frozen, the water drops frozen in place. The frozen water also reflected the sky above, turning different colors, probably because of the northern lights above. The walls of the Manor were painted pitch-black,the were hard, ruthless and unmoving.

soon enough, Hermione realised that she was gaping, so she closed her mouth with a audiable crack. She turned her head to find out that Nott had the same reaction, and appearently, she had recovered faster than him.

She yelped as he grabbed her arm and twisted it, chaining it to the other hand. Hermione was beyond pissed as Nott pushed her forward, and in front of the Bronze gate.

“patentibus,” He said. Could the password be more obvious Hemione mused as she was pushed forward by Nott, patentibus was the latin word for open. 

But all of Hermione’s previous thoughts were cut short as she saw the scene before her. She had been wrong, the roses were not black, they were a very, very dark shade of red, and they had silver glitter on their surface, which was completely in contrast with the velvet red color of the flowers, giving them a look of stars in a almost black sky.

The silver Glitter was also in the air, and Hermione recognized it. It was the fons charm, a charm which would bring spring in the certain area it was cast upon, but the thing was, only a very powerful weather which or wizard could do that, because in order to mantain the charm, one’s power had to be very strong in order to withstand the power of the real weather, it was believed that there were other dimentions which magically influenced the earth, thus, the wizard or which had to be more powerful than the power of the influence cast upon the earth. 

That ment- shit - Hermione could think of only one wiard that powerful. Voldemort, duh. 

“Nicely deduced,”said a cold and ruthless voice Hermione recognized.

Hermione turned to see Voldemort standing barely three inches away. involuntarily, a cold shiver shook her body as she looked up into the blood red eyes, which didn’t fit on the otherwise so beautiful features of his.

The devil took extra care the day he made him, Hermione contemplated, taking in his features.

“You know what, Hermione, you are a eally lousy occlumens” 

Hermione shuddered as she herd her name rolling off his toungue, and before she could think “We are not on first name basis, Voldemort!”


End file.
